


Uncomfortable Comforts

by SmutPrince



Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ficlet, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, No beta we die like mne, mentions myra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29862942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmutPrince/pseuds/SmutPrince
Summary: A warmup request from a friend on Discord. Rusty's insecure (duh) and Brock reassures him. Pretty standard. I didn't specifically think of WHEN this happens, but safe to say it's early series.
Relationships: Brock Samson/Rusty Venture
Kudos: 14





	Uncomfortable Comforts

It’s subtle, the first few times. Well, not really, Doc’s never been very good at subtle, but with a man that high strung Brock just assumed it was another symptom of the man’s neuroticism.

It was glaringly obvious Rusty was insecure, everyone who ever spoke to the man for more than five minutes could gleam that. Brock had known the smaller man for years, and there’d been … a lot of confusingly sexual tension between the two for a long while. Doc, even if he wasn’t doing it on purpose, had become quite domestic with his bodyguard and though he’d never admit it plainly, Brock had fallen into a similar role. It felt nice, just to pretend for a moment to be a normal, happy family. Well, as normal and happy as cloning your “children” when they died and fighting men in butterfly costumes could be.

When they eventually breached that unspoken line between playing and living domesticity—when Brock finally manhandled the good doctor against a metal wall in his lab and fucked him stupid—Brock assumed that it was clear that he cared about and even loved Rusty. He started trying to show it more obviously with small, romantic gifts. A fistful of flowers, maybe a soft kiss on the back of his head as he passed him in the kitchen. As gentle of touches as he could give, not sexual in nature, but just. Loving. Comforting.

Brock would have thought it painfully, glaringly obvious that he cared about the Doc and wanted to be with him. As always, though, Rusty kicked and thrashed and fought the entire way through it.

It came to a head after two weeks of Rusty shimmying out from under Brock’s hand, laughing in clipped, awkward squeaks whenever Brock tried to display any non-sexual affection. Squirming and looking away, sweating, uncomfortable, under Brock’s intense gaze. It frustrated the larger man. It wasn’t easy, being gentle, it was something he actively had to try and do. It didn’t come naturally. So to have Rusty constantly dismiss him, and for the last three days flat out avoid him, was infuriating, to say the least.

Now he was walking calmly, _definitely_ not stomping, towards the lab, where Rusty was fiddling around with some old tech his dad had left him. He remembered Doc going on a week ago about something to do with truth rays and the military and some other stuff that honestly Brock was too busy enjoying his cigarette to pay any attention to. Brock gently, _definitely_ not aggressively, opens the lab door and strides in to see Doc jump, and turn with a scowl. “Could you not slam the door open when I’m working on wiring the size of angel hair spaghetti? I’d like to not get zapped or blown up, thank you. I’m on a ten-day streak.” Doc’s eyebrows are arched down in irritation, and he’s talking down his nose, scolding Brock like he’s one of the boys. Brock lets it go, for now, but his eye twitches. “We need to talk, Doc.”

Immediately Rusty deflates, all the bluster and condescension leaving his body all at once. It makes Brock’s heart hurt a little, and he holds up a hand, trying to bat away whatever self-deprecating thoughts and nightmare scenarios Rusty’s mind is turning over. “Relax, I’m not here to run out on you or let you know there’s another woman or anything like that.” It doesn’t seem to relax him, though, because Rusty’s dower expression is still fixed on his face. Brock takes a deep breath in, figuring he might as well start before his scrawny lover can bolt out the door. “You’ve been avoiding me for the past three days and before you try and say otherwise,” Brock’s voice grows a little louder when Rusty tried to open his mouth to deny it, “it’s very obvious. You and I are a third of the people who live on this compound, Doc, you can’t pretend like it’s not obvious when you’re making an effort to avoid me. You haven’t been in the kitchen for breakfast in like a week.”

Rusty isn’t looking at Brock, suddenly finding the floor tiles more interesting. Brock sighs. “Look, can you just tell me what I did and I’ll-“

“It’s not you!” Rusty finally yells, equal parts exasperated and panicked. Brock’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “It’s- I don’t know how to do this! This whole, weird domestic thing. I mean, when I was with Myra it was kinda. I dunno! I felt really manic for the first few months, but it was- it was nice! But then she went all-“ Rusty scrambles and stutters, hands thrown up in the air. “I don’t want to make you all crazy too!” Brock gapes a little, then huffs out a laugh, then a full-on chuckle. Then he’s pinching the bridge of his nose, laughing openly. Rusty feels less amused, his face burning to his ears. “Stop laughing I’m being serious!” It comes out more like a whine than he’d like.

Brock shakes his head, moving his hand. “Doc, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m already kind of crazy.” It’s Rusty’s turn to gape, and Brock gives him a shit-eating grin, and Rusty’s scoffing, rolling his eyes. “Oh my god, shut up…” he sighs, but there’s no anger behind it. Brock strides toward him, still laughing and shaking his head. “Look, Doc, I promise I won’t go psycho on you.” He pauses for a moment. “Well, I mean, more than usual. But you already knew that kind of psycho when I first split your ass open.” Rusty flushes, impossibly redder, and smacks Brock on the arm as he goes to wrap Rusty into a hug. “You’re a crass brute!” he snaps but pushes his face into Brock’s neck regardless, grumbling as he closes his eyes and inhales.

“Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me.”


End file.
